The temple's intricate corridors wound like a maze, countless passageways intersecting and branching apart. People of all heights ran through them, and when they encountered one another, their faces showed surprise or keen interest.
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
The figures asked in voices of different pitches after each encounter. Some sounded young, others mature, but their tones were otherwise identical.
"I'm Qi Si."
"I'm Qi Si."
"I'm Qi Si."
They answered with the same certainty, then dissolved into specks of black foam that scattered across the walls covered in gray shadows.
At the beginning of the corridor, Qi Si saw his twelve-year-old self.
Among a tour group climbing a snowy mountain, a couple led a quiet boy along. The couple's faces were bright with smiles, but the boy looked up at the cableway nearby. His dark eyes were devoid of emotion, as gloomy as a ghost trapped in an old house.
Ghost Shadows curled around the cables. Twelve-year-old Qi Si watched without blinking. When the cable car plunged, and the crowd cried out in alarm, he smiled with cruel innocence, as if he had just seen a birthday surprise.
The scene in his memory was painted over, becoming vivid again. But this time, Qi Si saw things he had never noticed before.
Golden vines twisted out of the shadows and reached toward him, seemingly trying to touch him. Yet an invisible force appeared to hold them back. Reluctantly, they veered away from him and wrapped around the parents protecting his sides.
Twelve-year-old Qi Si ran, growing little by little, becoming thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...
The substantial black shadows stayed by his side, baring their claws and reaching for him with malice. Golden vines appeared and disappeared among the shadows, trying again and again to touch him,